


Storm Shelter

by Maygra



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Magnificent Seven AU: ATF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 00:17:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maygra/pseuds/Maygra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Many thanks to Mog for the creation of the ATF universe, to Killa for pulling me into this fandom and most especially to J for encouragement, speedy and insightful betas and for just making my world a better place.  

</p><p>
Originally published May 2002</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storm Shelter

Storm Shelter  
by Maygra  


+++++++++ 

The roll of thunder brought Chris' head up, blinking as the lights flickered. Behind him he heard Vin stir on the sofa, the soft rustle of pages on the coffee table pulling Chris' attention around and he turned to catch Vin rising up, his book discarded. 

Vin only moved to the sliding glass doors off the office/den, staring at the skies beyond. Without thinking about it too much, Chris turned back to his report. He wanted to be finished so that he could have the rest of the weekend without worrying about paperwork or job responsibilities or the fact that lately his life had been more about meetings and procedural adjustments than actual law enforcement. 

Necessary evils, he knew, and it all came with being the SAC for one of the ATF's more successful Special Operations Groups. But it had been months, it seemed, since he'd actually had a whole weekend that didn't include work at some level. And this weekend he was more determined than ever to get the 48 hours free and clear he was due and deserved. 

And that Vin deserved. 

His lover hadn't done more than made a few mumbles and wisecracks, never really giving Chris a hard time when the job interfered. It helped that Vin was in a unique position to know just how much the job could interfere with the rest of their lives; he hadn't escaped weekend responsibilities either. A month ago had seen him give up a couple of weekends to two-day-long conferences. Then he had stepped in to fill the instructor's duty at the armory range when Jack Henderson had been forced to undergo an appendectomy without much warning. A couple of prior commitments to the community center in his old neighborhood in Denver's version of the barrio had left them with barely a day between one work week and the next to actually spend together in the past eight weeks. Grabbing time together had become almost more difficult than tracking down criminals. 

They had most nights, and Chris thought it likely he'd have either gone out of his mind or at least done bodily harm to someone if he hadn't been able to grab that much normalcy in his life. Still, too often they'd both come home late and tired and managed only the basics of living. Meals on the run, Vin taking the brunt of the stable duty while Chris did his best to make sure they actually had food in the house as he headed home. Or he would pick up clothes at the cleaners, take care of banking or errands or any of the million things that had to be taken care of that ate into both time and energy. They could have bunked in with any of the other members of the team: Josiah had offered them his guest room more than once and it was closer. Once upon a time they might have crashed at Vin's apartment in Purgatorio but currently it was sublet to a new transfer to the ATF offices in Denver. 

And truth be told, though they hadn't really discussed it, both of them needed the distance between the job, and even their friends and colleagues, that the ranch offered -- especially when the rest of their life together was stretched to the breaking point. Chris would gladly give up the extra half hour or so of sleep he might gain by being closer to town to have the forty minute drive to work and back with Vin. Too many days when that was the only real time they had to talk or just enjoy each other's company. 

Their relationship wasn't flailing or even in jeopardy, but Chris was missing the intensity, if not the pleasure, of having Vin to himself for more than a few hours. And given how often Vin insisted on driving with him to work, even when he knew Chris would be working late, his partner was feeling the lack of time together just as acutely. Better to hang out at the office reading up on new weapons or surveillance techniques, with Chris close by, than spend hours on his own at home. And that was a change for Vin in a big way. Occasionally he might head out with the rest of the boys for a beer but he'd show back up at the office a couple of hours later and wait for Chris to be done. Vin didn't need Chris to talk to him and certainly didn't feel the need to try and assist Chris in the bureaucracy the leader of Team 7 had to deal with, but he did want them to be together as much as possible. Alone but together. 

But neither of them had commitments this weekend, or wouldn't if Chris could get his reports done tonight so he'd be ready for a seven o'clock meeting Monday morning. And he was pretty committed to getting them done, so much so he hadn't really even bothered to change from his suit pants and shirt once he got home. He'd eaten dinner sitting at his desk, and Vin hadn't done anything more than get him food and a beer, taken care of the dishes and laundry, then settled in on the sofa to read while Chris worked. 

The lights flickered again and Chris made a hasty move to save the report he was working on to his laptop before a power failure destroyed hours of effort. 

"Moving in fast," Vin said from the window and Chris got up to join him. 

The storm was moving in quickly across the flat plains, rolling off the mountains to the north in a race to cover the low country surrounding Denver. Another clap of thunder rattled the windows, and the lights flickered once more before the room was brilliantly illuminated by a flash of lightning arcing across the now dark purple skies. 

"I'm going to get the horses in," Vin said, already pulling back from the windows. 

"I'll help," Chris offered, returning to his computer to shut it down but Vin shook his head. 

"Windows upstairs are open and on the truck. You take care of here. Won't take me long. Sire's probably already hiding in a stall," he said with a grin and got his coat. 

Chris let him go, already cataloguing where in the house they had candles and lanterns and flashlights. Vin took the back door and Chris the front. 

There wasn't much Chris could do with Vin's jeep save roll the soft sides down and snap them. If the wind really kicked up the old Wrangler would have standing water on the floorboards but it wasn't anything new and it wasn't really avoidable. He did roll up the windows on his own truck, finishing just as another clap of thunder echoed around him and a flash of lightning revealed a momentary negative image of the house and the yard with the barn and corral beyond. The lights in the house flickered again and then went out and Chris made the porch just as the first large drops of rain started falling. 

The sun hadn't set yet, even though it was more like twilight with the covering clouds. He could see well enough but grabbed a flashlight from the kitchen before heading upstairs to close windows. By the time he was done with that the rain was coming down in torrents and he set up a few lamps before grabbing his coat to head outside to help Vin. 

He headed toward the utility room and the back door there rather than using the sliding glass doors off the den. Through the door's glass panel, he caught sight of his lover in a flash of lightning, closing the barn doors, the horses apparently secure and dry inside. Which was more than could be said for Vin. Even running, he was going to be soaked to the skin and Chris changed plans, snagging towels from the cabinet over the washer and opening the door to meet him as Vin came running through the back yard and crossed the deck. 

"Jesus!" Vin swore on a half laugh, stumbling inside to stand on the mud mat as Chris stepped back. "We got life preservers anywhere around here?" he asked, both of them staring at the sheeting rain that was already flooding the back yard. 

"May have to swim for it," Chris chuckled and helped Vin peel the soaked denim jacket from his shoulders. Even that much had Chris damp as well and he tossed the jacket up on top of the dryer, tossing a towel over Vin's head to catching the dripping ends of his hair. 

Vin let him get the worst of it before bracing himself on the dryer to pull off wet boots, managing to cover his hands in mud from them which then got transferred to his shirt. "God, Vin, let's tackle one soggy part of you at a time, okay?" Chris scolded, shaking his head as he ended up with a muddy hand print on his own previously white dress shirt. 

"Shit, sorry," Vin said and held his hands up, backing away before he got Chris any wetter or muddier than he already was. Chris only shook his head and unbuttoned the white shirt before offering Vin another towel. 

Not that it did much good. Vin was literally soaked to the skin, worn denims made darker by water than they had been since their life on a store shelf, clinging even tighter to Vin's skin if it were possible. The green Rolling Rock T-shirt clung to his chest as well, outlining the sleeveless undershirt he wore underneath. 

Carefully, Vin wiped his hands off on the towel before setting it aside to pull off his shirts. Chris opened the washing machine, glad to see it empty and shoved Vin's jacket in it as well as the muddy towel. His own shirt would have to go to the cleaners. 

Chris leaned back, just watching Vin, half-thinking he should get dry clothes, but too caught up in the view to move. Vin's shirts were so wet he couldn't easily pull them from his jeans and Chris blinked as Vin unsnapped the denim to make pulling his shirts up easier. 

It might be raining like the fortieth day of the flood outside but Chris found his mouth dry. Vin wasn't even looking at him and it wasn't as if Chris had never watched him undress before. Watching Vin peel the wet cotton off his skin -- lifting the sodden material and rolling it to get it over his chest and shoulders -- reminded Chris of things as elemental as the storm raging outside. The path of the wet cloth left a sheen of moisture on Vin's skin, the compression of his hands on the fabric squeezing trickles of water out that dropped and rolled over the tan skin. 

Chris was mesmerized by the path of one droplet that trailed from the fleshy part of Vin's shoulder, across his left pec and then down along the ladder of his ribs on its way to being soaked up by the gaping denim at Vin's hips. 

The utility room itself was a little humid, both from the warmth outside that was only now being dissipated by the rain and because of the lingering heat from when Vin had run the dryer earlier. Chris was all too aware of a different kind of heat coiling through him, almost shocked at the sudden blossom of arousal deep in his belly. Christ, how long since it had hit him this hard? Since Vin's mere physical presence had unleashed desires and the smoky, half-hidden lust that had so marked the early part of their relationship? 

Not that the desire had really faded between them, it had only altered over time as days turned to weeks, then months, shifting from the lightning flashes of yearning and hunger to something slow and steady and always simmering. This was familiar but new too, or renewed, hitting Chris with all the force of a gut punch. Somewhere along the way they'd synched up, either or both knowing when the other was ready for long slow explorations of pleasure, or fast, hard bursts of physical satisfaction while emotional hungers were fed at other times, by other methods. They'd also learned when either of them was too tired, too tense; when the give and take of comfort and closeness was needed more than a tumble and play between the sheets. 

Chris hadn't forgotten or lost his appreciation for his partner's physical form and knew Vin hadn't lost any of his love for watching Chris either. Sometime it was almost embarrassing, the way they'd catch each other looking. Sometimes Vin would blush, or it would be Vin looking and Chris would give him his most shit-eating grin, all the while enjoying the tight coil of heat that having those blue eyes rake over his body evoked. There was definitely something both ego-building and wonderful in having your lover think you were the hottest thing since the invention of toast. 

But it had been awhile, either because of familiarity or the grueling schedules they'd both been keeping, since Chris had been taken by the white hot flash of uncontrollable desire for his lover. So much so that the resurgence of it made him dizzy…and maybe a little reckless. 

Vin dropped the soaking shirts into the washer and Chris shook himself a little holding up another towel to wipe at Vin's chest while his lover pushed his wet hair back again, but it was Chris' hand that wiped at the rivulets of water rather than the terrycloth towel. The moisture was as warm as Vin's skin and Chris let his hand slide over Vin's shoulder, then down, across his chest watching the water pool and slip over one peaked rose-brown nipple. 

"Uh, Chris…" Vin said, quietly. Chris ignored him, bending his head to lap at the droplet water poised on the small nub of flesh. Vin was rigid and still, taking in air slowly as Chris' lips closed over his left nipple, a shudder running through him as Chris' tongue lapped at the moisture then at the bud of flesh. 

He let his lips move and his tongue, a long slow lick across Vin's muscles to his shoulder, tasting rain and sweat and skin. It was intoxicating and erotic as hell, the scent of Vin's rain-soaked hair as compelling and overwhelming as some kind of exotic incense. Vin finally moved, but only to lift his right arm, fingers curving and curling around the back of Chris' neck, into his hair. 

There were droplets of water on Vin's shoulder and Chris licked at them, sucked the skin softly until the only wetness left was that left by his tongue. The towel in his hand fell to the floor, palm open to skim along the ladder of Vin's ribs on his right side, smearing the wetness there across his waist and to his back and pulling Vin closer to him until they were pressed chest to chest. 

Chris' t-shirt soaked up the water on Vin's skin and he found himself growling or close to it; not wanting the slickness of Vin's skin to vanish too quickly. He pulled back suddenly, Vin almost gasping from the shock of the sudden separation and Chris caught a glimpse of passion-darkened eyes watching him in confusion and maybe a hint of frustration. 

Chris peeled his own t-shirt off and tossed it aside, gathering Vin's hair in one fist before his partner could either protest or question. He nuzzled Vin's temple, smelling and tasting the same damp scent he'd found on his skin, only stronger. Vin's back was still wet but his chest was dry as Chris pressed close again, seeking his lover's mouth. Vin made a small sound, almost a question but he didn't open his mouth to talk, only to welcome Chris in, taking control of the kiss almost immediately. 

For a long minute Chris gave himself into that kiss, feeling Vin's body respond as quickly as Chris' had. But he wanted more -- he wanted that taste back, the one that filled his mouth and nose and settled in his blood like a drug. 

Pulling back, he let his hand rub the moisture on Vin's back. "Was it cold out?" 

"Huh?" Vin asked, blinking at him, breathing a little shallowly. 

"In the rain. Cold?" 

Vin shook his head, eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to keep up with the conversation. "N...no…just wet…" 

Chris grinned. "Good," he said and caught Vin at the waist again, pressing him back, until he could reach the doorknob and open the back door. 

"Ch...Chris…" Vin stopped, pushing back a little by bracing his legs. "What are we doing?" 

Chris stuck his hand out the door, far enough to bring it back wet and dripping and offered his fingers to Vin, tracing the wetness across the flushed lips. Automatically, Vin licked, maybe not quite getting why the water had apparently robbed his lover of sense, but his eyes got a little wider as Chris lapped at the water on his hand, then leaned in to suck the dampness on Vin's throat left by his hair. "Drowning…" he said, and kissed Vin again, making sure Vin didn't trip, backing them up, until they were both outside, the rain falling over them in warm, steady sheets. 

Chris lifted his face to it, feeling the spatters of moisture across his skin, trailing over his face, catching in his hair and then felt Vin's hands in his hair as well, pressing the rain through it, into it. Chris still had one arm around Vin's waist, holding him tight, but that left both of Vin's hands free. It took only moments for them to both be drenched, Vin's hair soaking in the water again, loose strands of it pulling into tight, dark, random ringlets that dry, would comb out into soft waves of auburn and brown. Now though, when Chris lifted his hand to it, tendrils wrapped around his fingers, the shorter hairs in front plastered to Vin's forehead. 

Vin's mouth nudged Chris', opening it, taking control again, sucking softly on Chris' tongue then harder, a swallow and something like a moan, vibrated along Chris' lips and he backed Vin up until they were pressed to the railing on the deck. Vin's hands went out to grip the rail, to steady himself. Kisses were still exchanged hungrily while Chris' hands gripped the already-open waistband of Vin's jeans to push the zipper down and then slide his hands beneath the wet fabric to work it free of its heavy adhesion to the skin of Vin's hips. His own slacks had resisted the water only seconds longer and now were sodden, pulled down by the addition of rain to the weight of the fabric, sticking to his thighs and ankles, and barely hanging onto his hips. 

Vin was grinning, leaning his head back to shake his hair off his shoulders, the water running along his chest and belly, a tiny little pool of it caught by the gapped fabric at his pelvis, the denim and cotton so super-saturated it couldn't absorb any more. He had his legs braced wide, hands still locked onto the railing. Chris taken in once more by the sight of him and thinking Levis could sell a lot more 501's than even they thought possible if they had a picture of this in their ads. 

His thumbs worked at the fabric at Vin's hips, pushing it down further, exposing the smooth, shallow curve of his hips, briefs dragged down with the denim and hanging without more pressure on both the hard rise of Vin's cock and the sweet curve of his ass. His hands dug under the denim, working the fabric down until his hands were pressed hard and curved into the muscular cheeks, pulling Vin forward from there until their groins were pressed together. Matching Vin's grin, Chris swayed and rubbed, a circular motion that ground their cocks together through the separating fabric. 

"Really are going to drown," Vin said, barely heard over the pounding rain and the softer whoosh of trees tossed by the winds running high over the tops of them. Chris licked at his shoulder and neck, taking in rainwater and the clean taste of Vin's skin, sucking on the stretched-tight tendon as Vin let his head fall back, exposing his neck, spine arching more tightly to rub against Chris. 

"Think I'm past that point, pard." Chris tasted and nuzzled, escaping the rain on his face only barely by burying his face into Vin's neck, moving his mouth up to his ear, wet strands of hair tickling his skin. His fingers kneaded into the tight muscle of Vin's ass, forefingers tracing the cleft there up and down until Vin was falling into the slow press and thrust with his hips. 

Chris was hard, body throbbing at the sensory overload, cock rigid enough to tent the looser fabric of his slacks even with the sodden weight of the cloth. He pushed and peeled, hearing Vin gasp and hiss as the denim was dragged roughly over his skin, his briefs giving way reluctantly over the swell of his cock. Then he was free, the jeans ragged up at the tops of his thighs, flushed cock getting its own rainwater bath as Vin eased back, arms trembling, to rest his butt on the railing. 

Chris nuzzled Vin's throat again before kissing him hard and deep, hands shifting only briefly to undo his belt and ease some of the pressure on his own dick before sliding his hands slide over Vin's ribs and down along his waist. His mouth was following more slowly, ignoring Vin when one hand came up to bury itself in his hair again. Not to stop him: Vin was pressing and twisting to get more of Chris' mouth on his chest, his nipples, a shudder running through him when Chris bit the left one, taking the small nub between his teeth and pulling back slightly, stretching it. Vin tried to reciprocate, reaching down to stroke Chris' dick, to try and work the button and zipper free and Chris batted his hand away and released Vin's nipple, working his mouth lower, lapping at the trickles of water on Vin's skin and pushing the denim farther down until it could slide no further unless Vin moved. 

"Out of them," Chris demanded, growled, steadying Vin when he lifted one leg to let Chris pull the jeans free and then the other. Chris only dropped them at Vin's feet, crouching, then kneeling, letting the water run from his face to his mouth which still felt dry. Water caught and ran through the dense wiry curls at Vin's groin, diamond bright droplets that vanished and were replaced instantly. The rain was easing off some but hadn't stopped: it still glazed Vin's cock and Chris wanted that taste most of all. 

Vin's had to grip the rail again when Chris licked and sucked, lips and tongue trying to catch the rain as it slid off the flushed, taut skin. The taste was clean, new, just a hint of salt at the tip, rain threatening to wash the precum away before Chris could claim it -- and he was having none of that. His mouth covered the flared head, barely registering the feel of Vin's fingers in his hair again, gripping and releasing, stroking through the wet strands as Chris sucked and drew back but didn't release him entirely. Vin's hips flexed and moved, wanting more, begging Chris for more even though Chris was the one on his knees. Salt and rain, then a heavier, muskier taste as Vin's body tightened, shaking now, moans and groans and words mixing with the steady patter of rain and the thudding in Chris' chest. Chris' fingers reached up and beneath, fingering the skin below Vin's cock, dryer but still damp, rivulets of water running along the inside of Vin's thighs, along the crack of his ass when his hips lifted from the railing to push and thrust into the mouth tormenting him. 

Chris was drowning but not gasping for breath as he pressed, finding the tight, tiny opening and pressing inward, sucking strongly as Vin nearly bucked him off and fell. Thunder shook the house again and Chris almost started laughing at the idea of the earth moving, but then could only swallow, Vin caught up in an orgasm that had his whole body arching, pressing into Chris' mouth and then dropping to impale himself on the fingers Chris still had in his ass. 

Nothing had ever looked so wild as Vin, naked and wet, arched against the rain slicked railing and Chris' hand and mouth. Chris pulled back, just enough, rain washing over Vin's cock, mingling with the spurting semen, but Chris only gave him those few seconds before he was sucking again, tasting the mix, licking at it, and swallowing. Easing the rest of Vin's release until he was tasting more rain than salt and Vin was gasping for breath above him, hands white-knuckled on the railing and legs spread wide. Chris worked his ass once more, loosening him, grinning at the shudder that took Vin again and feeling an answering throb between his own legs. 

Getting up wasn't as smooth as he would have liked but the railing helped and then he was able to push his own slacks down, wanting the wet and wildly panting creature before him as he wanted nothing else in his life. Vin seemed to be of the same mind, fingers wrapping around Chris' dick in a cool, wet clasp that warmed as his palm moved, the railing taking most of his weight as he stroked Chris firmly. 

Reaching up, Chris sank both hands into the tangled wetness of Vin's hair, pushing the mass of it back, only to pull Vin's mouth to his own. He fell into the rhythm of thrust and sway while Vin worked him, found himself sucking on his lover's tongue, on his lips, on the water running down his jaw in the same rhythm that Vin's hand set to stroke him. Then Vin squeezed and held, Chris gasping against his mouth at the sweet delay the pressure caused, nipping sharply at Vin's lower lip in warning. "Jeans," Vin muttered against his lips. "Pocket," he added when Chris stared for a moment, not understanding. 

The ache wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't exactly painful as he bent over and swept up Vin's sodden jeans in one hand. Vin's hands reached for them, sorting and digging and twisting the cotton until he found the pocket he needed, digging his finger into it to produce a smallish tube of Vaseline, grinning at the phallic bulb of the lip balm, but squeezing it tightly until he had a glob of the slick petroleum on his palm. The jeans were dropped and Vin came to his feet, once more wrapping his hand around Chris' dick to slather the slick gel on him. 

Lightning crackled across the tree tops, charging the air, and vaguely Chris thought this was dangerous, maybe. But there were higher points of contact than either of them and he bucked into Vin's hands, Vin's name escaping his lips in a half plea, half warning that the lubricant might be a wasted effort if Vin kept on stroking him. Just enough time and Vin wrapped his arms around Chris neck for a kiss that sucked the air from Chris' lungs and the strength from his legs. "If I'm gonna be wet," Vin said, murmuring directly into Chris ear with a lick and a nip. "I want to be wet inside and out…" he said. 

"Jesus," Chris breathed out, catching Vin's still jelly-slicked hand and pressing it behind him, covering the long fingers to guide Vin, or help, or just feel his lover wipe the rest of the slick residue down along the crack of his ass. 

Vin turned, twisting in Chris' arms to grip the railing again, this time bending low instead of trying to keep himself erect. The dark hair looked longer wet, spread across Vin's neck and shoulders, water dripping steadily from it and along his back. The water beaded and lingered where the Vaseline clung to his skin, doing the same on Chris' dick so that even as he pressed himself into the small, resistant opening droplets of rainwater fed into Vin's ass. 

Then it was all smooth pressure, Vin pressing back. His head came up, spine arched once more as he put one foot on the lowest rail, altering angles and heights and bracing himself when his lubricant slicked hand slid along the rail. Chris hissed out at the compression along his swollen flesh, shaking his own head to clear his face of both wet hair and water, laying both hands on Vin's broad shoulders to anchor himself. He kneaded them as he rocked, then cussed in sheer delight when Vin pushed up almost to standing, Chris sliding deeper and holding, while he panted through the pleasurable throb along his cock and deep in his groin. 

Vin wanted him to move, rocking back, a sway between Chris and the rail, the muscles of his back working, the slight curve of his lower spine shifting as he arched and then spread his hands wide on the rail, shoulders dropping. Chris pulled back then, his own groan mingling with Vin's softer moan. Rock and pull, push and lift, the shudder that ran through Vin when he hit just the right spot translating across flesh and muscle and nerves. 

Vin's back was slick, water tracking along his spine to catch in the shallow curve of his lower back, pooling and then overflowing to pool again where their bodies were joined almost seamlessly. Alternating slow, deep thrusts with quick, hard ones, Chris bent over again, licking water from Vin's skin, moving it across his back…feeling the pressure build as tightness gathered in his belly and groin. He wrapped his arms around Vin at chest and waist, his own chest slipping across the hard muscles as if the they would melt together, eyes closing as the scent of Vin's water-laden hair, the smooth-slick feel of his skin rubbed and teased at his nipples. 

So close, and Vin all wet and hot around him, his cock firming under Chris' hand when he brushed past it, anchoring his hand between the taut thighs to thrust and press, and finally just jerk, in and out, closing lips and teeth around the softer flesh on Vin's shoulder. He felt rather than heard the ragged cry Vin let loose just as Chris felt his own body surrender, or explode -- he wasn't sure exactly which it was and didn't honestly care. 

It was all about breathing or trying to, bodies parting with a wet slide and loss of warmth that had Chris seeking Vin's hand, to fold the slender fingers into his own and draw both their hands tight to Vin's chest. The rain fell still, but with less force, both of them turning faces up to it, letting it wash over them, between them, almost through them. 

It eased off again, falling more lightly, but darker clouds behind them promised more. The wind was steady and the temperature dropping slowly but surely. The barest shiver through his muscles and Chris gathered Vin tighter to him for a moment. "Should get dried off," he murmured into Vin's ear and felt the responding nod but they stood for a few moments more, watching the display of wind and lightning across the skies, before Vin squeezed his hand and released it then moved away. Only far enough to gather up their sodden clothing in one hand, his other arm sliding around Chris' shoulders as they wheeled toward the still-open back door. 

The house was darker, not quite pitch black, as Vin dumped the clothes into the washer, laying Chris' slacks across the top so they could drip off some of the water. The towels were still there and it was enough to stand in silence to dry off, just the whispers of the storm outside and their own breathing. 

Chris was left with the feeling there should be something more profound about all this: the storm and Vin, himself pushed to something a little wild by the weather. He grinned at his own sense of proportion. Hadn't he wanted that intensity back? Planned for it, after he finished his work, after a good night's sleep, courted it and laid it out like an operation. Maybe that was the difference…but it was nice to know the intensity was still there, just lurking a little more deeply, waiting for an opportunity to emerge. 

Vin slid by him for the stairs, returning a few moments later with dry clothes -- sweats and t-shirts -- for both of them. Armored with the thin protection of dry cotton, Chris headed to the den to get a fire started, as much for illumination as warmth, while Vin found the oil lamps. Sarah had bought them years ago, mostly for decorative purposes and they weren't the most efficient of lighting sources -- the heavier Coleman lanterns in the utility room would have made more sense and been more efficient, but Chris didn't protest, preferring the softer light. 

"Beers are still cold," Vin said, coming up behind him as he coaxed the flames a little higher and closed the fire screen. Chris took the proffered bottle and then just pushed backward until his shoulders hit the front edge of the sofa, Vin dropped a cushion on the floor and folded himself down to sit on it in one fluid movement, only shaking his head with a grin at Chris' smirk. 

"Little sore?" 

"Tender," Vin acknowledged and then chuckled, relaxing back and then shifting closer to press side and thigh along Chris' body when Chris' arm wrapped around his shoulder. "Just the storm?" he asked, curious but not really concerned. 

"I guess. Couldn't be that drowned rat look you get." 

Vin snorted and dropped his head back along Chris' arm, beer cradled in the shallow valley created by his outstretched crossed legs. Chris only smiled and pressed his lips to the damp hair at Vin's temple, taking the scent in once more and feeling a tingle in his groin still. Might become a favorite drug, he thought, turning his gaze back to the fire. 

A half hour passed and both of them were dozing, having shifted from sitting against the sofa to curling up together on it. The power and the house sprang back into life suddenly, Vin jerking a little in surprise, Chris tensing for a fraction of a second before recognizing the cause of the change. The computer rebooted itself, the refrigerator hummed to life and the ventilation fan whirred into service. Lights came on causing them both to blink and the sounds of the house, usually ignored, seemed overly loud. 

"Probably go off again," Chris said as he got up to turn the stereo off, taking only a second to listen to the weather report on the radio. 

"Least it didn't blow a circuit," Vin said. 

It hadn't, but Chris smiled and rested a hand on Vin's shoulder. "Sit tight for a minute," he said, almost a command, and Vin gave him a confused glance but nodded. 

The breaker box was in the utility room and Chris scanned it, flipping breakers off until the house was dark once more. He could still hear the hum of the refrigerator, surrendering a little romance for a fraction of common sense and a hundred dollars' worth of meats and foods in the freezer -- and cold beer. The water heater he left on as well, but the rest of the house was silent. Satisfied, he headed back and then paused at the sliding doors and cracked them a little, letting the storm sounds in through the screen. 

Vin was sitting up in the corner of the sofa, on leg drawn up but he dropped it as Chris settled next to him, hand coming down to rub along Chris' lower chest as Chris laid his head on Vin's lap. "Feeling up to a more primitive weekend there, cowboy?" 

"Maybe not the whole weekend." 

"What about your report?" 

"Nearly done…an hour or so Sunday night." 

Vin was quiet then, his hand still rubbing steadily across Chris' chest and belly. Closing his eyes, Chris breathed in the near-silence, still acutely aware of the sounds of the storm, of the rain-scent in the air, smoky wood and the warmth of Vin's thigh and hand where they connected. It was as if all the tension left him slowly, seeping out, washed away, his mind still quiet despite a few false starts into something that required real thought. 

Vin relaxed as well, the movement of his hand slowing and finally going still, breathing slow and shallow, asleep sitting up. It wasn't late, Chris wasn't entirely sure what time it was and resisted the urge to check his watch. It didn't matter. Nothing to do and nowhere to be… He found himself half-hoping the storm would continue into the night, drifting toward sleep himself as he thought of waking at midnight, the storm still around them and waking Vin as well. 

It was a good metaphor, this storm, for what they had, what they were. A shelter too, this storm, in its own odd way: raging around them but leaving them safe, at the center of it. Some place calm and quiet amid the rain and wind, wrapping around them and reminding Chris that passion wasn't a product of planning. Vin's fingers flexed along his waist, slipping beneath the elastic of his sweats but only rested there, pressed against bare flesh. 

"I like storms," Vin said, almost a whisper, voice hoarse and low as the wind rasping through the trees. 

"Yeah," Chris said, a smile curving his lips. 

Vin shifted, back sliding against the sofa until he was partially curled around Chris. His fingers pressed further under the cotton sweatpants and Chris sucked in a soft breath at the stirring of interest he felt. "I'm just warning you now, Larabee. Winter comes. Snow storms…you are on yer own." 

"Long time to winter, Vin," Chris said raising his hips a little. 

"I'm just saying…." 

"So noted," Chris said and opened his eyes to see Vin's grin, the laughter in his eyes. He reached up and pulled Vin down, nuzzling his lips until they opened. Months away, winter was. 

Vin still smelled of rain, tasted of it…and Chris could only wonder what he'd taste like in snow. 

~end~ 

5/16/2002 


End file.
